Nameless-Due-To-Supreme-Lack-Of-Creativity
by Pythia
Summary: Sorta AU. Harry is reading something. Draco is watching over his shoulder. I wonder what it is... Hey, is that fanfiction.net??? *SLASH*


~*This is SLASH, remember? You do? Good.*~  
  
PAIRING: Harry/Draco, I suppose?  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
GENRE: General – Because it seems to be the most sensible place to put this  
  
Humor – Although there isn't an ounce of it here  
  
Romance – Yeah right. Would have put it in, but there can only be two genres. And I don't really think this is romance.  
  
DISCLAIMER:  
  
Starlight, star bright,  
  
These characters, I don't own, right?  
  
But I wish I may,  
  
I wish I might,  
  
Borrow them for my fics tonight.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES/SOMETHING POINTLESS:  
  
Right. This is slightly AU,  
  
I am certain that Draco is OOC,  
  
the story is somewhat abrupt,  
  
And it's basically a PWP.  
  
Ooh. It almost rhymed.  
  
Yeah, and, forgive bad spelling and grammar. And redundancy (if it doesn't fail to show itself). I just can't help it! It's… fun. Hehe.  
  
And…  
  
//…// - Draco's widdle thoughts  
  
~*…*~ - side comments from me, if any  
  
\\…\\ - Harry's widdle thoughts, if any  
  
R&R:  
  
I'd appreciate it if you did, and probably wouldn't mind if you didn't. The only damage it would do is lower my self-esteem ten notches. But hanging out with my friends already does that, so… it's no biggie.  
  
DEDICATION: To Raissa, who I hate with my very essence. Scratch that. Why would dedicate something to you, you %#@%^&*!!!!!! Oh wait. Now I remember. So that I could indirectly censure your fic. I think that's the fic's sole purpose. Right, now that that's been settled…  
  
Hold it! By the way, Raissa, I was not planning to ask your permission concerning the lines borrowed from you fic. I knew you wouldn't mind! *smirks*  
  
TITLE: Fic-Which-Remains-Nameless-Due-To-Supreme-Lack-Of-Creativity  
  
~*This is cheesy— of the mozzarella variety.*~  
  
***  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Using a computer."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Honestly, Malfoy, don't you know anything?"  
  
"I don't bother to enlighten myself on Muggle artifacts."  
  
"Oh, right. I forgot. You're a high-class wizard who is far too superior to be wasting time with useless things like these."  
  
"That's right, Potter."  
  
"Why are you hanging off my shoulder then?"  
  
"I'm just curious as to what you're doing. With the computer."  
  
"You actually pronounced it correctly!"  
  
"I'm not tongue-twisted like that Weasel friend of yours."  
  
An aggravated growl.  
  
"Malfoy…"  
  
"All right, all right… So, really, what are you doing with it?"  
  
The sound of a creaking chair.  
  
"If you must know, I'm reading fan fiction. Fan fics for short."  
  
"Fan fiction?"  
  
"Fan fiction."  
  
Blink.  
  
"What in the name of bloody hell is that?"  
  
"Its fiction. By fans."  
  
An irritated twitch.  
  
"Elaborate."  
  
"Stories. Written by fans. About us."  
  
A raised eyebrow.  
  
"Us?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why us?"  
  
"Because we're fictional characters."  
  
"We are?"  
  
"You're clueless."  
  
"And that's my fault!?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
Silence.  
  
"We're fictional?"  
  
"Yes. I just happen to be the protagonist of a series called Harry Potter. And you are in fact one of the antagonists."  
  
"…"  
  
A snicker.  
  
"I'm the main character."  
  
"What!? WHY!?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe its because the books are called Harry Potter. Or have you just failed to remember my name?"  
  
"They're all probably cracked…"  
  
"Of course not!" Indignant. "Anyone would be better than you!"  
  
"To play what role?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Fine. I'll just go back to reading, now, thank you kindly."  
  
"For what? Being adeptly advanced than you could ever be?"  
  
"You are not better than me."  
  
"Of course, how could I forget? You just have the amazing talent to seem utterly inferior."  
  
"You have a right to believe what you want to."  
  
More silence.  
  
Another creaking noise.  
  
The sound of a mouse button clicking.  
  
"What's the fan fic about?"  
  
"Like you would care."  
  
"Yes I would, if it's about us."  
  
"It doesn't necessarily have to include you."  
  
"But it does. I can see my name."  
  
"Damn whoever gave you eyes."  
  
A snort.  
  
"No. Wait. Damn whoever taught you to read."  
  
"MmHmm…"  
  
"Screw that. Damn you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Blink. Blink.  
  
"You know what?"  
  
"No…"  
  
"I have no idea…"  
  
"Ooookkay…."  
  
Silence again.  
  
"So, what is the fic about?"  
  
"Slash."  
  
"…Slash?"  
  
"Yes, slash. Your hearing seems to be steadily deteriorating, you know…"  
  
"I choose to ignore that last remark."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
A soft grunt.  
  
Then…  
  
"What's slash?"  
  
A chuckle.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
"Yeeees?"  
  
"Are you homophobic?"  
  
"Uh, no…"  
  
"Well, slash is… uh… ermm…"  
  
"Something like boy on boy action?"  
  
"To put it bluntly, yes."  
  
"You READ that stuff??? Golden Boy Harry Potter reads GAY PORN???"  
  
"Its not essentially porn."  
  
"Well, what else could it be?"  
  
"Sappy romance. Mush. Lovey-dovey type o' things…"  
  
"…Ick."  
  
"And the occasional angst."  
  
"Angst…"  
  
"Tear-jerkers."  
  
"I know what angst is."  
  
"Ok, ok, just making sure…"  
  
"Just curious, but… Slash = m/m relationships, right?"  
  
"Right…"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"What do you mean 'who'?"  
  
"Couples."  
  
"Oh. Well, there's Seamus/Dean, Ron/Neville, Fred/George…"  
  
"The twins???"  
  
"Twincest."  
  
"…Who else?"  
  
"Siruis/Remus, Snape/Lucius…"  
  
"My father???"  
  
"Yes. Anyway, Percy/Lee, Bill/Charlie, Ginny/Hermione…"  
  
"I think I've heard enough…"  
  
"And a lot more."  
  
Noiseless.  
  
"So…"  
  
"So…?"  
  
"This would be slash between…?"  
  
A soft 'eep'.  
  
"Potter, are you blushing?" Teasing.  
  
"N-no! I-it's just the monitor… Y'know the site has a pinkish background..."  
  
A scoff.  
  
"Yeah right."  
  
"R-really!!!"  
  
"White seems pretty far from pink, if you haven't noticed."  
  
"O-oh?"  
  
A nervous laugh.  
  
"You're stuttering."  
  
"N-no! I'm not."  
  
"Let me see that!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"I saw my name there! I demand to know what queer fantasies that thing is portraying!"  
  
"NOOOOOO!!!"  
  
A thud.  
  
"…Ow. You didn't have to do that."  
  
"You wouldn't move."  
  
"You could've asked nicely."  
  
"You know I'm not the type who does that."  
  
"Right."  
  
Hardly audible muttering about 'a certain idiot who has come to be recognized as being decidedly evil'.  
  
"Whatever, Potter."  
  
The sound of a button being repeatedly pushed.  
  
"Draco… Harry… Gay… Fraternizing with the enemy… Love triangle… Lust…!? What is this crap???"  
  
"A fan fic. REMEMBER???"  
  
Stillness.  
  
"This is stupid. I would never be attracted to you of all people!!! Who in their right mind would read this trash???"  
  
"I don't think you should say things like that. Fan fic authors don't take kindly to flames."  
  
"Hah! They can't hear me!"  
  
"That's what you think."  
  
"…"  
  
An infuriating smile.  
  
"Whatever. What's this literary imperfection called, anyway?"  
  
"Ice and Flame."  
  
"Cheap title."  
  
"Hey! It's a nice fic!"  
  
"Sure, sure…"  
  
"You haven't even read the whole thing yet!"  
  
"Well, from what I've seen, it sounds delightfully horrid."  
  
"What do you know!? She's a very talented author!"  
  
"Uh-huh… Sure. Bad grammar, cheesy plot, lame humor, stolen lines, overload on the clichés— of the miscellaneous variety. Seems like that reviewer— Pythia—'s the only one who sees her for what she is— a complete idiot."  
  
"Of course not! She's really great at writing! Far from being an idiot!"  
  
"And her pseudonym would be…?"  
  
"Uh… Snape's Lingerie…"  
  
A choke.  
  
"How nauseating…"  
  
"Well, authors tend to be deranged… But in a nice way!!!"  
  
"Ugh."  
  
Crickets chirp in the background.  
  
"Can I go back to reading now?"  
  
"Yes. The special time I have allotted for boredom is to good to waste for this."  
  
Sounds of someone rising from a chair.  
  
Sudden quietness.  
  
The chair is once again occupied.  
  
"Hey! I thought you said I could read!"  
  
"You can wait a moment, can't you?"  
  
"WHY!? I thought you said you didn't like it!"  
  
"Yeah, but that was before I caught you doing something with Weasley's tongue."  
  
A sputter.  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"Yup. Says right here:  
  
'Ron stood up, snatched Harry's arm, and pulled Harry to face him. Without a second thought, he met those lips he had longed to taste with his own.  
  
Fierce. Ron was hot as flame, as he immediately beckoned Harry to surrender. Ron's excited tongue plunged into Harry's sweet cavern, intruding and dominating. The surreal excitement caused Harry to close his eyes, and drown in passion from Ron's mouth. He didn't pull away, quite responded to it even.'  
  
You must have been pretty desperate for shit to even react!"  
  
A mocking snicker.  
  
"He's not that bad…" Softer. "Even experienced…"  
  
A guffaw.  
  
"Oh, oh, oh! Don't tell me! Not only does WonderBoy read stuff like this, he's a faggot, himself!!!"  
  
"You're to talk about being straight…"  
  
"At least I have taste."  
  
"And it's not very good, I might add."  
  
"Better than yours."  
  
"Sure. Crabbe?"  
  
A wince.  
  
"He was available."  
  
A scoff.  
  
"Who's desperate?"  
  
"At least he doesn't have constellations on his face."  
  
"Hah! What about warts!?"  
  
"Their fashionably detestable."  
  
Eyes roll.  
  
"Okay, then. Goyle."  
  
"Um… convenient."  
  
A laugh.  
  
"Convenient!? I'd say your taste was screwed."  
  
"At least mudbloods aren't on my list…"  
  
"Sod off."  
  
"No, I don't think I will."  
  
"I'll make you!"  
  
"You can't."  
  
"What makes you think that!?"  
  
A diskette aptly named 'Diskette With Lots of Great Slash G – NC17 Fics and Pics' is being waved in the air by previously (as in very previously) mentioned 'idiot who has come to be recognized as being decidedly evil'.  
  
\\Oh my gawd! My 'Diskette With Lots of Great Slash G – NC17 Fics and Pics'!!!\\  
  
"Hey! How did you—? When did you—?"  
  
"A few minutes ago."  
  
"But I didn't see…"  
  
"You have eyes, but are far too oblivious to use them."  
  
"…Fuck you."  
  
"You're not my type."  
  
A shrug, then a particularly wicked smirk.  
  
"But you're mine."  
  
Shock.  
  
Astonishment.  
  
Bewilderment.  
  
General freaking out.  
  
"EH!?"  
  
A chuckle.  
  
"P-potter… What are you— ACK!!!"  
  
"Oh, shut your gob. No. Wait. I'll do that for you."  
  
"Hu— Mmffm!!!  
  
A ripping sound.  
  
A sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Hey! Wha—!?"  
  
Humming.  
  
"AHHHH!!! POTTER!!!"  
  
More humming.  
  
"GET!!!"  
  
Even more humming.  
  
"OFF!"  
  
Helluva lotta humming.  
  
A gasp.  
  
"Potter…"  
  
The humming stops.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Blink.  
  
"Oh what the hell…"  
  
//S'not every day you see The Boy Who Would Hopefully Die Within The Next Few Years/Months/Days like this//  
  
Pounce.  
  
"That's the spirit, Drakkie-snoogle-buns!"  
  
//Of course, there are consequences prior to being called that//  
  
"I swear I'll kill you when this is over."  
  
//With a chainsaw, even!//  
  
"I'll keep that in mind."  
  
  
  
THE END…  
  
Excuse me while I throw up. This has got to be one of my worst fics. 


End file.
